


The luscious curly hair

by MartinChristopher



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: 221B Baker Street, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Captain John Watson, Distracted Sherlock, Doctor John Watson, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, John Has a Beard, Love, M/M, Pet Names, Porn With Plot, curly hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 13:28:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8287415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartinChristopher/pseuds/MartinChristopher
Summary: The sequel to: Why is your hair longer than usual.Not just Sherlock is obsessed with the new haircut of John Watson.Also John is very obsessed with the luscious curly hair of Sherlock Holmes.And he's eager to distract Sherlock.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amandasews](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amandasews/gifts).



221B Baker Street had changed since Sherlock had dared to ask why John’s hair is longer than usual.  
It hadn’t changed in a bad way. It had changed in a good way.  
The second bedroom, wasn’t a second bedroom any longer – since a while the second bedroom was Sherlocks messy and creepy room for his experiments and his chopped body parts – like heads, and fingers, and toes and hands. There was a fridge, a bookshelf, two cupboards – and a table full of test tubes and papers and Sherlock’s microscope and all his other chemical stuff. And right now, there where a lot of plants (it almost looked like a jungle) and it smelled strange – a bit drugged maybe. For science Jawn – Sherlock had said a few days ago.  
The living room was as messy as always.  
But the kitchen was cleaned up properly. The frigde was just filled with food and milk and drinks, and one could perfectly sit and eat at the table.  
And Sherlocks bedroom had become Sherlocks and Johns bedroom.

221B Baker Street hadn’t changed as much as Sherlock had changed.  
Half a year ago, he had asked John at the breakfast table why his hair is longer than usual – and since then, he was massively loved by John Watson, and he was giving back the same unconditionally love to John Watson.  
And it was absolutely worthwhile. He had never felt this happy in his life like the last six month. It was absolutely great to be loved and to love someone, and it was absolutely great that their friendship hadn’t changed – and on top of that, they still chased through London and were hunting mad criminals.  
Partners in crime – during their relationship.  
Partners in crime – during their friendship.  
Partners in crime – at crime scenes.  
They had found home. Not just in 221B Baker Street, but also in each other.

As much as Sherlock loved his experiments and all the crime scenes and all the corpses and murders and cases from Greg-Gavin-Lestrade and their clients, he loved John much more.  
And so he had set his priorities new.  
1\. John  
2\. Their relationship  
3\. Time for their relationship – to do things like going to the cinema, having dates, going out for dinner  
4\. Friendships  
5\. Work – which included his mad experiments.

 

It was Friday night, no case – but this wasn’t a thing to sulk any longer.  
No case means, time for their relationship, time for John.  
Sherlock was sitting in his armchair and he watched telly, while John was looking up cottages in France – they wanted to make a one week holiday at the beginning of the year – which wasn’t far away.  
The fireplace already crackled, and since a few days the flat was decorated with Christmas stuff.

John closed the laptop, he had enough of looking after cottages.  
He stood up, walked to Sherlock, and stopped behind him. His finger ran through Sherlock’s soft and dark curls; he bent down, kissed the strand, ran his fingers through the luscious curls again. He buried his nose deep into the curls and breathed in deeply.  
God, he loved the smell of Sherlock’s curls in combination with this good smelling shampoo.  
“You’re distracting me, John Watson.” Sherlock murmured gently with closed eyes.  
“Hmh. I don’t care, to be honest.” John murmured softly into the curls, and kissed them again.  
“But it’s Star Trek, with this guy, who looked like me, let me watch it.” Sherlock murmured, still with closed eyes. He enjoyed Johns kisses in his hair very much. “I will miss the best scene, he will cry in a tick.”  
John rubbed his nose through Sherlock’s hair.  
“I still don’t care. I will buy the DVD, than you can watch it as often as you want. Now, let me distract you, honey.” John murmured lovingly.  
“Hmh, it’s a deal. So how do you want to distract me, darling?” Sherlock purred.

John smiled, kissed Sherlock’s hair, and broke apart. He circled Sherlocks armchair, smiled down to him and sat down onto Sherlock's lap.  
“Hmh, how about kissing you, biting you, licking and sucking at your neck and ear, playing and kissing and snuggling with your luscious soft dark curls, and riding your cock?” John purred into Sherlock’s ear.  
“God! I hope for you, that you will do all these things at once. Right now.” Sherlock sighed in relish and with a thrill of anticipation.  
“Are we impatient, hun?” John chuckled softly.  
“I think the one who’s impatient right now, is you, sweetheart.” Sherlock whispered into John’s ear; he kissed the ear, and his hand rubbed across the fabric of the sweatpants - across John’s massive erection.  
John moaned and swallowed, bit and licked his lip.  
“Jesus! Ohh god,... I’m just massively turned on by your luscious hair, and your deep voice.” John moaned hoarsely, and rubbed across Sherlock’s crotch.  
“I didn’t know that you’re obsessed with my hair; I thought I’m the one who have a kink with your hair.” Sherlock moaned in relish, and ran his hand through John's still longer hair. 

John smiled and shivered pleasantly; he broke a bit apart, and immediately Sherlock cupped his bearded cheeks – Sherlock wasn’t just obsessed with John’s longer hair, he was obsessed with John’s longer hair and the beard, which wasn’t just a stubble any longer.  
They looked each other into the eyes, smiled lovingly, while Sherlock caressed the soft bearded cheeks of John with his thumbs.  
John winked and licked his lips.  
“I’m obsessed with these dark curls since the day we met. But I need a few secrets, to surprise you from time to time, Mr. Holmes.” He winked again. He bent down, kissed a smiling Sherlock, and after his kiss, he whispered something against Sherlock’s lips. “I will fuck myself senseless on you, darling, while I will tug and pull at these luscious curls, and while I will bury my face into these soft and lovely smelling black curls.”  
Sherlock shivered, captured John’s lips, and kissed him hungrily and needy – with a fast beating heart and a tingling stomach.

Their tongues fought with each other passionately, and Sherlock’s hands caressed down John's shoulders and spine and grabbed John’s butt.  
John moaned into the kiss, and his hands caressed across Sherlock’s chest, downwards the the beginning of the T-shirt, he was wearing. His hands slid under the fabric and he shoved the T-shirt upwards.  
They broke their kiss, rubbed their crotches against each other, moaned – and John pulled the tee above Sherlock’s head, and threw it away. The hands slid across Sherlocks naked upper body – across the slightly muscly chest, across the chest hair, across the flat stomach; on every bit he touched he caused goose bumps.  
And when he stroked across Sherlock’s erection, Sherlock was just able to moan loudly and enjoyable.  
He grabbed Sherlock’s hand, stood up, pulled him upwards, turned around with a confused looking Sherlock, shoved him to his bigger and more comfortable armchair, and pressed him into it.  
He winked, nudged his nose with the forefinger and walked away.

Sherlock blinked a few times.  
“Hey, where are you going!?” Sherlock said disappointed and not very pleased.  
“Now you’re the impatient one.” John grinned, and walked through the hallway.  
“I’m always impatient when it comes to sex with you.” Sherlock yelled, and leaned back into John’s armchair.  
“You’re not just impatient when it comes to sex with me.” John chuckled, and went into the bedroom.  
“True. Come back!” Sherlock said impatiently.  
Even though, he was aware, that John fetched up the lube, why did it take that long – he had the feeling he was waiting since half an hour.  
He was an impatient man, but when it comes to sex with John, one was no longer able to scale his impatience.  
God, he loved sex with John so much, no matter which kind of sex, not matter if he topped or bottomed, not matter if they had sex with a long foreplay or a short foreplay or no foreplay, and no matter if it was soft and slowly and tenderly or if it was full of love or if it was full of passion. He just loved it; it was amazing every time; it never got boring, and John always managed it, that he lost it completely – that his mind was turned of completely.

“Why aren’t you already riding my cock and pulling at my curls, John?!” Sherlock said, when John was back.  
John grinned, and handed him the lube.  
“Obiviously, tiny mind,... because you still wearing your sweatpants and boxer briefs.” John grinned, and bent down to him, to shove his sweatpants and boxer briefs downwards, until they hung in Sherlock’s knees.  
Sherlock pursed his lips, while John undressed himself.  
“I was sulking because you just left me behind, I hadn’t time to do that.” Sherlock smirked softly, watched John and when he was naked, he grabbed his wrist and pulled him down into his lap.

They both moaned when their hard cocks rubbed against each other; precum drooled downwards.  
John knelt on Sherlock's lap, bent down, and began to suck, to lick, to bite and to kiss Sherlock’s neck and ear.  
Sherlock moaned loudly and in relish; he grabbed John’s naked butt and massaged his buttocks softly.  
And while John was busy with Sherlock’s neck and Sherlock was busy with John’s buttocks, they rubbed their erections against each other.  
They moaned and purred and sighed.  
And John's hands slid into these black curls he loved to much.

They lips found each other for a breathtaking kiss; they were both covered with goose bumps, still rubbed their erections together, and they shivered every now and then pleasantly.  
John won the fight of their tongues, the fight for domination, and when he broke the kiss, he began to beg and plead with a hoarse and aroused voice.  
“Fuck, Sherlock. Please do your job, so that I can fuck myself on you. Please, I can’t wait any longer.”  
Sherlock raised his eyebrow, and smiled. He opened the bottle with lube, covered his hands with it. One hand slid onto John's butt, the forefinger rubbed across the puckering hole, and slid into it easily.  
“Just because you begged and pleaded that nicely, love.” Sherlock purred with his deep voice.

John moaned and buried his face into Sherlock’s curls.  
It was torture, it was bloody torture – even though Sherlock was fingering him with a fucking awesome pace.  
Sherlock added a second finger, when John began to fuck himself eagerly on his finger. He scissored him, and rubbed every now and then across his prostate, which made John moan even more.  
But when he cupped Johns throbbing and leaking erection, John moaned uncontrollably.  
“Fuck. God. Please, please, keep your hands off.” John moaned hoarsely into Sherlock hair. “I’m too horny for your fucking awesome hands at my cock. I will come before I can fuck myself on you. Please, love, I want to cum untouched.” John moaned and moaned; he kissed the curly strands, breathed him in eagerly.  
“As you wish, Dr. Watson.” Sherlock purred, and John’s cock twitched even more.  
Sherlock’s hand around his leaking cock disappeared, but a third finger found his way into his wet and hot hole.  
What a pleasure. What an awesome lover. What an awesome feeling, to be loved unconditionally by Sherlock Holmes.

Johns hands find their way into Sherlock’s curls; he grabbed the strands, tugged and pulled at them, while his face was still buried into them, while his lips still kissed him, and while his nose still breathed them in.  
Sherlock's fingers opened him up very skilled, and his other hand lay onto his nape, and pressed him more into the curls.  
Sherlock purred and sighed with pure pleasure, because of the things John did with his hair.  
John loosened one hand; the hand was shaking, not becauase of his tremor, but because he was fucking horny right now, and all the things Sherlock did, were just overwhelming and amazing. He cupped Sherlocks twitching erection, and he spread the amount of precum across his cock.  
Sherlock moaned deeply and grabbed John’s nape.  
“God John! Jesus, that’s lovely.” He purred and moaned with pure relish.

John hummed into Sherlock’s curls, snuggled into them even more, and shivered because of the softness of these curls.  
He lifted his hips, moaned with disappointment, but he didn’t waste a second, he let sink his hips onto Sherlock’s leaking erection – his hand disappeared as slowly as he sat down.  
They both moaned, they both tilted their heads back.  
John would be able to move immediately, he would be able to move roughly immediately – but he wanted to enjoy just Sherlock’s cock.  
They both opened their eyes.  
Black oceans looked into each other  
Black aroused oceans.

Sherlock blinked a few times; he shivered and purred when John began to play with his curls.  
“Bloody hell, John. You’re more obsessed with my hair, than I’m with yours – and that’s actually not possible.”  
“Well, I thought the same thing,... but it seemed that I’m more obsessed with your luscious curls, than you're with my hair and my beard together.” John smiled.  
“God, I love your beard.” Sherlock purred, and eyed John.  
“I know, you rub your cheeks across my beard as often as you can, and you caress my cheeks more often when I have a beard, and you love it, when your lips are red and swollen after kissing me, while I have a beard.” John winked.  
Sherlock smiled lovingly.  
“So true, gorgeous man.” Sherlock said warmly.

John smiled with beaming eyes, bent down and rubbed his bearded cheeks across Sherlock’s left and right cheek, and gave him a soft kiss.  
Sherlock purred with a shiver, but grabbed Johns nape again, and let his purr end in a moan, when John began to move.

Sherlock closed his eyes, and he couldn’t say which sensation he loved the most.  
Was it Johns tugging and pulling at his curls?  
Was it Johns playing and snuggling with his curls?  
Were it John’s kisses in his hair, and the breath ins?  
Maybe it was Johns rave about the curls?  
God, or was it his liking and sucking and biting and kissing of his neck and ear?  
Bloody hell, it probably was the beard, that scratched across his soft skin, and John’s moans and purrs and sighs, and John’s swearing.  
Jesus, maybe it was John riding his cock, or to be precise, he did exactly what he had told him beforehand, he literally fucked himself senseless.  
Fuck! It were all of these things at once!

While John fucked himself senseless, he also fucked Sherlock senseless.  
The mind was turned off, the hands ran wildly over Johns bare skin – above every inch, his throat let out one moan after another, and in between he purred and sighed – or he tried to return John’s breathtaking kisses.

John moaned in pure relish; at the moment, he had buried his face into Sherlock's curls again – he rode Sherlock with an intense rhythm full of love and passion.  
He sweated; and he gasped into Sherlock’s curls. He was totally out of breath, but god, this really hard and long and slender cock was just too perfect, to slow down.  
His heart pouned like mad against his rib cage, his stomach tingled, his whole body seemed to shake and shiver pleasantly.  
“Sherlocksherlockfuck,… Sherlock, darling.” John moaned.  
“Can I do you something good, Dr.Watson?” Sherlock purred, and he didn’t wait until John answered; he just joined John’s rhythm with his hips. His cock rubbed now even more often across John’s prostate. “How about that, does that do you good, Captain Watson?” Sherlock purred again.  
They both needed to shiver. John was massively turned on by Sherlock’s Dr. Watson and Captain Watson. And Sherlock was massively turned on, because of John’s body response, when he called him Dr. Watson and Captain Watson.

“Fuck, use one more time one of these names, and I will cum.” John purred.  
“Then please use one of your lovely pet names you have for me, and I will join you.” Sherlock purred.

John broke apart slighly, opened his eyes and looked down to Sherlock.  
Sherlock opened his eyes as well, and met his gaze.  
They locked eyes with each other.  
“You’re gorgeous, Dr. Watson.” Sherlock purred hoarsely.  
John shivered, and he really couldn’t hold it back any longer. He could feel his orgasm which rushed through his body.  
“And,... and you... Fuck! You’re so beautiful, sweetheart.” He said with a moaning and trembling voice.

John couldn’t just feel his own climax, while he grabbed and tugged Sherlock’s hair. He could also feel Sherlocks orgasm.  
Sherlock moaned in relish. As much as John loved it to be called Dr. Watson or Captian Watson during sex, as much Sherlock loved it to be called sweetheart, darling, honey, or love. He reached his orgasm, could feel the great feeling in every fibre of his body; and he could feel John’s ring muscle clenching around his cock, which made him cum even harder. And he could also feel John’s cum onto his upper body. 

They both moaned the name of the other like a mantra.  
John rode them through their orgasms – softly and slowly.  
They both gasped and panted and sweated.  
Sherlock pulled him into a hug – a soft and tender one.  
They both buried their hands into each others hair.  
John into soft and dark curls.  
Sherlock into grey and fluffy hair.

They smiled satisfied.  
“I love you, Jawn.” Sherlock smiled widely, rubbed his clean shaven cheek across John’s bearded cheek. It was so easy to say it - he could say and show it all day long.  
“I love you and your luscious curly hair, my lovely genius.” John purred with a warm voice.

 

The smile was huge and loving – the smile of the man with the luscious curly hair.


End file.
